A June of Ordinary Murders by Conor Brady

socialise or move about openly. Their food and drink was brought in to them at their offices. They came and went usually under cover of darkness.
    These were days of uncertainty and disquiet for the regular police officials at the Castle, especially for senior men like John Mallon, whose job it was to ensure the security of the administration.
    Swallow preferred to keep his distance from the political end of G Division’s work, but that was not always possible, as with the Cavendish and Burke murders. For a G-man, political work could sometimes provide a swift upward route in the promotion stakes. Conversely, a simple error in judgment in dealing with security issues could also destroy an officer’s career.
    â€˜Yes, Sir,’ Swallow was emphatic. ‘These murders are ordinary. There’s nothing that’s political so far in the case.’ He hoped he was right.
    Mallon nodded. ‘Good. We don’t need even a hint of political trouble. We have the Queen’s grandson, Prince Albert Victor, coming here in little more than a week to mark the Jubilee. The government wants a warm Irish welcome for him – a full civic reception, spontaneous outpourings of loyalty, young women throwing bouquets of flowers – that kind of thing.’
    â€˜I’d have thought the Queen might want to come herself, Chief,’ Swallow said tentatively. ‘She hasn’t been here for what … 25 years or so?’
    â€˜26 years, to be precise,’ Mallon replied. ‘More or less since her husband died. It may be that London thinks we couldn’t guarantee her safety. Officially what I’m told is that she remains displeased with the Dublin Corporation because it wouldn’t issue a formal statement of congratulations when the Prince was born 23 years ago. You’d think these things would be left in the past.’
    For a brief moment Swallow thought he saw Mallon smile. If he did, it was gone instantaneously.
    â€˜Anyway, he’s coming whether we like it or not. We can’t afford to have anything disruptive going on.’
    â€˜I know that, Chief.’
    Swallow was indifferent to the prospect of a royal visit. It held no interest for him one way or another. But it was safer to express himself with more certainty to Mallon.
    â€˜You can be sure the whole force will be on top form, Chief. And there’s hardly any of the politicals or subversives now that we don’t have tabs on in G Division. Isn’t that the case?’
    The question was rhetorical. He did not expect an answer from Mallon, but he thought the Chief Superintendent would want him to sound confident.
    Mallon’s nod was ambiguous.
    â€˜We’ll leave it be, Swallow. I’ll have to deal with this business of the newspapers and I’ll try to keep you out of trouble. I imagine the Commissioner will want some explanation about the newspaper details. I’ll try to reassure him. Mind you, he won’t have forgotten that you still have the Elizabeth Logan murder on your books.’
    Swallow fought down a surge of frustration. It was grossly unjust, he told himself, that a successful record over many years appeared to count for so little. But to argue with Mallon would only make things worse. He knew that the Chief Superintendent was probably his best ally at this time.
    â€˜Yes, Sir. Thank you.’
    He seethed silently.
    â€˜Now,’ Mallon resumed his seat and reached for his copy of Swallow’s crime file, ‘tell me about the investigation plan.’
    Swallow took the detective Chief Superintendent through the events of the previous day. He started with the call out and his visit to the scene inside the Chapelizod Gate. He described the wounds to the dead man and boy, the mutilation of the faces, their clothing and the position of the bodies. Then he detailed the search procedures that had taken place under Doolan’s direction.
    Mallon sat silently throughout, turning